Turning Rogue
by Green Peridot
Summary: Sounds, echoing through the dark, empty halls of the School... Why are the teachers hiding a woman called the Rogue? Secrets are floating around the mansion. Just what happened in the five years since the Cure's release? ON HIATUS.
1. A Rogue

Don't own the Xmen- don't know why I'd be messing around with a fanfiction if I did, but I suppose that's beside the point...

Anyhow! **_Please note_** that this is definitely **_not an OC centric story_**. Grace just serves to intruduce the mystery-ish opening, and will be merely a minor character throughout the uncovering of various events. I'd tell you which character this is about, and what pairing it'll be; but that'd ruin all the surprises! Can't have that.

I hope you enjoy...

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An insistent breeze tickled the drapes, making them rise and quiver rhythmically in the night. A pool of soft silver moonlight waved and shimmered in a rectangle on the floor, fluid and graceful; and the breeze filtered in through the window, skittering playfully across a smooth, faintly bluish arm. Then it died down.

The owner of the blue tinged arm was sitting- tightly curled into a ball- in the corner, and was invisible in the shadows.

Only her wide blue eyes, oddly intelligent for one as young as her tiny size suggested, could be seen in the darkness. Those clear sapphire orbs scanned the room mistrustfully, and an ear was cocked to catch the slightest reverberation in the air.

Abruptly her head jerked towards the door, her heart rate exponentially accelerated. If you had been listening carefully, and had been perfectly silent at that moment, you would have heard a muffled scream.

For a split second Grace only huddled tighter into her corner, her young face an anxious mixture of fear and curiosity. She obviously wanted very badly to find out what was going on, but the former emotion had a powerful grip on her. Then, abruptly, she lurched determinedly out of her hiding spot, and in a second was out of the room, striding- well, walking with unaccustomedly long steps- down the hallway, as though she was trying to cover as much ground as possible before she could reconsider her actions.

Now her sensitive ears could pick up sounds of a struggle. Someone was thrashing around violently. There were two, maybe three other people with the first, by turns quietly cursing and soothing.

Grace was battling internally with her sight or flight instincts, while edging closer to the corner of the hall. When she reached it, all she had to do was peek her head around the corner to see them. Her heart was thrumming feverishly in her ribs as she slowly turned her head to the right…

There were actually four of them. Three were bent over the struggler, and the last one had the person in a tight head lock; and from the sound of it, was clamping the his mouth shut as well.

Grace's eyes, if it were possible, widened further; and an exhilarating amount of adrenalin was singing through her veins. This was something that was obviously highly untoward- and something she, in all probability, was not supposed to be seeing.

Most of their words were intelligible to her, because they were all whispering at once, and the person was kicking and thrashing very loudly, but she did catch a name being repeated ceaselessly in all of their hurried sentences.

Then one of the people gathered in the knot- was that Mr. Kurt? - shifted. And, briefly, she caught sight of the person on the ground that was being kept in Mr. McCoy's arms.

It was a young woman, her beautiful face twisted with anger and frustration. Her dark chestnut locks were mussed and matted, from both lack of washing and from her current struggle. The two white streaks, wildly tangled in the mass of the rest of her hair, were not so much white as dirty grey. And, for a split second, her startlingly green eyes met the girl's blue ones.

In that brief moment, she saw a glimpse of a haunted, tortured mind; one that had seen far too much of the world's darkness. A mind that had nearly been torn apart by it. Those green emeralds pierced Grace to her core, almost seeming to look _within _her. She shivered, but found it impossible look away.

Then someone moved between her and the woman, and eye contact was broken.

Grace leaned farther out, trying to get a better look. Nearly losing her balance, she let out the tiniest squeak of dismay as she caught herself.

Instantly, one of the people who'd had their back turned toward her swivelled around and looked straight at her, the man's dark eyes fastening on her frightened face. His scowl was made even more forbidding by his black muttonchops and beard. His expression, and his overall hairiness, put her forcefully in mind of a large, angry- and hungry!- predator.

Grace choked back a shriek and found herself running- much faster than she'd previously thought possible- for the (relative) safety of her room.

But hours after the adrenalin faded from her system, and her fear had spent itself, Grace sat on her bed with unfocused eyes and wondered just who that 'Rogue' was.

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I really do enjoy reviews. This is basically just a prologue, that hopefully drew you into the mystery. Hopefully. :D Please tell me if it's worth continuing.


	2. Searching

Finals backed me up and got me off schedule. Yuck. Sorry it took so long.

Thanks for all the reviews. It was even more than I was hoping for, which is always nice. And I should probably tell you that it's my policy to reply to each and every review I receive- you spend your valuable time to comment on my work, the least I can do it take the time to reply- so don't be creeped out or anything. :D

Hope you enjoy...

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Grace lasted only another two days of hiding in her room. An unusual current of curiosity was overcoming her strongest senses of self-preservation. It had swept over her; consuming reason and spitting it back out in the form of rationalizing.

_It couldn't hurt, just to poke around a little. They obviously want to keep her a secret, since they were trying to keep her from waking anyone that night... Maybe she is a prisoner, and she almost escaped!_

But no, they'd been talking to her- trying to sooth Rogue. Grace's acute hearing had caught a placating, persuading tone, not a threatening one. _Not a prisoner. Maybe they just don't want anyone bothering her. _

But _why _didn't they want anyone bothering her? Why were they keeping her a secret? Grace was burning with curiosity, itching to try to find out what was going on.

_Maybe that scary man glared at me because he didn't want any of the kids knowing about 'Rogue,' and thought I might tell someone else about her, because they might want to see her or something. He just didn't want her presence getting around the school._

That struck her as amusing. When, on earth, would she be talking to anyone else? But she was straying from the point.

_I wouldn't be bothering her. I just want to find out where she is. Just… just to really make sure they're not hurting her or something! _

There. Satisfied with her work, she swung off the bed and headed for the door.

A whisper of doubt halted her in her tracks. _If they catch you?_

They won't!

_If they do…_

Grace paled to a light pale blue, thinking of the scary, hairy man. If _he _caught her? If Mr. Kurt caught her snooping he would be angry, but she might survive his wrath. Mr. Hairy, though…

She shivered, and put the thought out of her mind. If he caught her, she would lie and say she had gotten lost. She was good at lying- she should be, since she'd been doing it eleven out of the twelve years she'd been alive.

Her hand shook as she reached for the knob, but she turned it just the same, and made her way out into the dark and silent halls of the sleeping mansion.

It proved harder than she'd thought, finding the woman. This night, unlike most, she heard no sounds of struggle; or any other sounds out of the ordinary. She had only the vaugest of ideas where she'd spotted the Rogue, and there were no clues as to where the woman's room was. Or if she even _had _a room. Was she a student?

No. She looked young, but her eyes were too old. Maybe she was in the teacher's wing...

But in the end, Grace just wandered aimlessly around the halls, not really looking at all anymore. She felt safe, slinking along in the shadows; and it felt good to be moving again. All of the adults had been nice so far, but experience had given Grace an overabundance of caution bordering on phobia; and she stayed safely locked in her room all day, every day, leaving only at night and when she absolutely needed to. So, the air- sliding over her skin from the speed of her movement- seemed like a luxury. And Grace was reveling in it.

Then she saw it. A balcony, with its doors thrown open wide to the night; and sweet smells of plants and dew were wafting towards her in small, tempting tendrils.

After living outside for years, being locked inside (even though it was self-inflicted) seemed like prison. It did not take Grace very long to muster the courage to go outside.

The night surrounded her in a comforting blanket as she stepped onto the terrace. There were flowerpots placed skillfully on the small balcony, perfuming the air; and the moonlight made the roses glow gently.

Grace inhaled deeply, looking out across Xavier's property; her eyes resting longingly on the pond across the lawn. She could _taste_ the moisture on the air. Her fingers twitched. How she missed the water!

"You seem to be up a lot late at night."

Grace nearly fell off the balcony in her shock. She whirled to see a dark silhouette perched on the stone railing, the person's back leaning against the side of the mansion.

"Little flighty, aren't you?"

Under any circumstances, Grace's throat tended to be dry and scratchy and quite uncondusive to speech; but she knew that any attempt now would end in squeaky disaster. Her eyes darted towards the French double door, but the stranger was between her and it.

The figure calmly began to get up, and moved out of the shadow.

Her fright dissipated into surprise. "You're- you're Rogue," she stuttered, eyes wide. Hey- not bad! Only one stutter, and her words had been maybe halfway intelligible. Progress _was_ progress, after all.

Rogue observed Grace's small person indifferently; taking in her bluish, scale covered skin, her robin's egg colored hair, her fin-like ears, and her webbed hands- all without the merest blink. "And you're the kid from the other night," she replied, and leaned against the rail without another look towards Grace.

Her utter lack of reaction abruptly deflected Grace's instinctive dread, and made her completely unsure of how to proceed.

"Why do you look so surprised?" asked Rogue

Grace tried to formulate a response, and succeeded, partially. "You didn't… gasp. Or scream. Or- or _anything_." In fact, Grace almost queerly robbed.

Rogue snorted, not bothering to look away from the nighttime scenery. "I've been around mutants a long time, kid. You're far from the most shocking one I've seen."

There was only silence, for a long, long time. Grace kept shooting looks at Rogue, her curiosity nearly bursting inside of her, but she didn't dare ask what she wanted to. There was something definitely warning in Rogue's posture as she looked up impassively at the stars, and it was a _very _personal question, one she really shouldn't ask anyone, especially not some possibly unstable- or worse, seafood loving- mutant that wandered the halls of Xavier's at night.

Finally, Rogue directed an impatient green glance at Grace. "You going to sit there all night twiddling your thumbs, or say what you're thinking?"

Chagrined at being seen through so easily, she bit her lip and mustered her courage. "You- you took the Cure, right?"

Silence. Risking a glance at Rogue, she saw the stiffness in her back and the hostility radiating from it. But, already in this far, Grace plunged forward heedlessly. "Why-"

Abruptly Rogue turned on her heel and stomped away.

She stood, speechless, for a second; and then she stumbled after her hastily. "Hey!" she called, squeaking. "Hey, wait!"

Rogue's retreating figure did not slow, and after only two turns Grace had lost her. It was nearly five; people could soon be up and about. There was no time to continue searching. Shoulders slumped, she headed back to her room. So much for not bothering Rogue at all.

Lying on her bed, Grace reflected that overall, things had gone well. After all, she hadn't sustained any bodily damage.

- x - x - x - x - x - x -

Grace stole carefully out of her room, listening intently for any sounds out of the ordinary. Nothing emanated out of the closed rooms except faint, muted snores or mutters.

It was summer, thankfully, so there were no students staying up late cramming. Therefore, she was not liable to meet with any frustrated teenagers headed for the kitchen to drown the sorrow of their probable failure with food.

Looking carefully left and right, Grace headed down another corridor, all her senses on the alert for anything untoward as she headed deeper into the adults' section of the mansion. So far, nothing.

On the whole, this was a good thing; but as the main purpose for this unaccustomedly long outing was to find Rogue, her logical side pointed out snidely that it wasn't really good at all.

Then, suddenly, she caught something. A mutter, bouncing off the walls; or perhaps it was a whisper borne along by currents in the air.

"…alone! … _quiet _for once, please!..."

Grace blinked, swiveling her head slightly back and forth in an effort to determine where the whisper was coming from. She couldn't make any sense of what the woman was saying, for there was not another person talking. At least, not that she could tell.

Taking a gamble, she headed left and then right down a few corridors. After a few silent minutes of walking, she began to despair that she had lost her trail, and would never find the Rogue.

But then, closer, she heard another disjointed and nonsensical mutter.

"No, we're not thinking about _him_." Pause. "You know what? I don't care if you think he's delicious!"

This last word alarmed Grace. Did the Rogue... _eat _people?

"We're- I mean, _I'm-_ not in denial!"

She could be a vampire, or something equally terrible, or maybe even worse than a vampire-- wait, _what?_ This was not making any sense. Grace was positive no one had said anything, and yet the woman sounded... angry at someone?

She was getting closer. She was fairly certain the Rogue was to her right, only a dozen feet away. And, from the sound of it, she was pacing.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!" cried the woman.

Grace's brows furrowed. The Rogue was sounding like she was in pain, or afraid, or...? Maybe she should get help, or- or something? She edged closer.

"We- _I_- won't do it again, not again, and-" she suddenly broke off, as if sensing something. Then Grace realized Rogue was quickly moving away.

She darted into the hallway after her. "Hey!" she called, her raspy voice carrying down the corridor. "Hey, wait!"

The woman walking rapidly away from her did not slow, even though Grace knew Rogue must have heard her. For a few minutes she tried to follow the woman, but before long she was hopelessly lost.

Disappointment swamped her. She had no idea where the Rogue had gone.

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Reviews, anyone? I'll send you a cyber-cupcake. (Cue for oohs and ahhs) :D


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